


If God Had Granted Me a Son

by babs



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26193454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babs/pseuds/babs
Summary: General Hammond helps Daniel through the aftermath of an incident.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	If God Had Granted Me a Son

**Author's Note:**

> for Hurt/Comfort Bingo Round 11 Prompt: Hostages

Doctor Fraiser intercepted him before he could take more than two steps into the infirmary.

"General Hammond," she said. "A word, sir?"

"Certainly, Doctor." He followed her when she motioned towards her office.

She hadn't looked overly concerned—certainly she wasn't wearing her "things are very very bad" expression, but he knew something was bothering her.

"Sir, I'm wondering if you could help me." That was their doctor, never one to dither around.

"Is there a problem with SG-1?" He wondered how many times over the years he'd said those words. More than he wanted to admit.

"Major Carter will have a scar on her arm, but with a bit of physical therapy, she'll be fine. Colonel O'Neill's lung is being reinflated and also will be fine with time. The burns on Teal'c's torso will heal also."

"I can't help but notice you haven't mentioned Doctor Jackson," George said gently. 

Doctor Jackson—the one member of SG-1 who'd come through the stand-off in Major Carter's lab, unscathed. The man they'd heard pleading with Major Loren to spare his team, to let them go, to take him alone as hostage during the hours long stand-off.

"Yes. That would be my problem," Fraiser said. She looked at him. "Daniel won't leave the infirmary. I've told him everyone is going to be okay. I've told him everyone is sleeping and he needs to rest, but..."

"But it's Doctor Jackson and it's his team, his family." George glanced out the small window and saw the man pacing back and forth along the three beds that held his teammates.

"Sir, he's ready to fall over with exhaustion, and he needs to get out of here. He needs to eat something, drink something, and sleep."

George knew an order to Doctor Jackson wouldn't do any good. He supposed Daniel would obey if absolutely necessary, but only after arguing and insisting that Doctor Fraiser was wrong and General Hammond was wrong. 

"I think I can help," George told his CMO before heading out into the infirmary.

He wasn't quite sure how it had happened—wasn't quite sure how a shaggy-haired, glasses-wearing linguist/archaeologist who was supposed to be dead on another planet had wormed his way into a general's heart, but Doctor Jackson had burrowed deep.

George didn't want to remember the previous year—the one without a Daniel Jackson. Mister Quinn had been competent, but the heart and soul of the SGC had been gone. And, if George admitted it, he had never quite trusted Jonas Quinn—not after his people had tried to make Doctor Jackson their scapegoat, not after he'd seen Doctor Jackson suffering and then dying. 

"Doctor Jackson." When there was no response he cleared his throat—loudly.

Daniel turned around and stared as if he didn't recognize him. 

George saw the confusion flit over the other man's face—Doctor Jackson had never been able to hide his emotions.

"General Hammond." Daniel's voice was hoarse, probably from all the hours he'd spent negotiating with Major Loren even though the outcome hadn't been what anyone wanted. "I think Jack's blood pressure might be too high. I better tell Janet."

"I'm sure Doctor Fraiser is aware of his vitals. You wouldn't want to insinuate her staff aren't doing their jobs," George told him. "It's been a long day and I haven't had a chance to eat." He watched as Daniel stopped his pacing. "I thought some company would be nice while I ate."

Daniel began chewing on his lower lip—a habit George had seen more often in the early days of SG-1. He looked at his friends and then back at George. "I can do that."

"Good," George said, and if he gave a thumbs up to Doctor Fraiser as he and Daniel left the infirmary, well that was just between him and his CMO.

* * * *

At oh three hundred, the commissary was nearly empty. SG-9 was sitting together at a table eating like they hadn't eaten for weeks. Considering they'd just come back from P8X-221 where hospitality demanded that any visitors share the communal meals and said communal meals consisted of a pasty gruel that SG-1 had described in great detail after first contact, it wasn't surprising that the table was filled.

"General Hammond!" Sergeant Tripathi came to the table with a smile. 

"Doctor Jackson and I need some food," George said. "I hope that SG-9 hasn't eaten you out of everything."

Tripathi smiled again. "No worries there. Breakfast or supper?"

"I'll have a turkey sandwich. No mayo, heavy on the lettuce and tomato," George sighed. When Daniel looked at him, he continued. "The Doctor Fraiser special."

"Salad on the side, fruit cup, and whole wheat bread." Tripathi nodded before turning to look at Doctor Jackson.

"Coffee's fine," Daniel said.

Tripathi glanced at George and raised his eyebrows.

George looked at Daniel, whose attention had returned to the tablecloth. He nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Doctor Jackson, but we're out of coffee at the moment. Between SG-9 returning and SG-13 and SG-17 headed out, they drained the urn. It'll be a bit until we can give you some." When there was no response, the sergeant continued. "We do have some apple dumplings coming out of the oven in about fifteen minutes."

"I think maybe Doctor Jackson could use a sandwich too. While he's waiting for the apple dumpling."

Tripathi nodded. "We can do that, sirs."

"Doctor Jackson," George said softly. "You need to eat."

"I'm not really hungry," Daniel said. "And I need to get back..."

"You need to eat and rest, son."

Tripathii brought out their sandwiches a few minutes later and George watched as Daniel picked up half of his sandwich and took a bite.

He choked it down but then took another. Satisfied that Doctor Jackson would indeed eat, George settled down to his own meal. Now he just had to figure out how to get the man to sleep.

* * * *

He managed to get Daniel to his on base quarters figuring that would be a better choice than the bunk rooms. At least it would be much quieter.

The other man was fading fast, but George could still see the way he held himself rigid, fighting back not only sleep but the fear he must have felt. Not to mention the guilt.

"Long day," George said into the silence when Daniel sat at the table.

"Too long." Daniel's voice was bleak. "And not long enough."

George pulled a battered checkers box that had followed him throughout his years of service and set up the board. He'd seen enough soldiers hit this wall. Tread softly, he reminded himself keeping in mind that the man before him was not a soldier, despite all the things that had been thrown at him over the years.

Daniel's hands were shaking—not from hunger, George knew. Reaction now that he had time to think, to process. But still he did his best to focus on the game.

Daniel sat blinking hard as the game ended. "Mike didn't make it."

It took George a fraction of a second to realize what the words meant. 

"You had no choice."

Daniel looked at him, and the pain in his eyes cut to George's core. "There's always a choice."

"You did what you needed to do to save three lives." George was gentle. He needed to be. He understood even if Daniel didn't.

"I took a life," Daniel said. His voice quavered. "No matter that I saved three, I still took one."

George had nothing to say to that. What could he say? That Daniel had done what was necessary? That the minute Loren had taken SG-1 hostage, his fate was sealed? That the other man had known there was no way out?

"Daniel."

Doctor Jackson looked at him, and George was struck by the despair in the other man's eyes. "Now I know it's bad. You never call me Daniel."

George smiled. "You're right, I don't. But then again I don't call Major Carter Sam either."

That comment elicited the faintest hint of a smile.

"If he just would have listened to me," Daniel continued. "I thought I was getting through to him." His breath hitched.

"You didn't fail," George finally said. He wanted Daniel to believe it as much as he did. "And I'm sure Major Carter, Teal'c, and Colonel O'Neill don't think you failed either."

"I wouldn't call the outcome a success." Daniel pushed up his glasses, wiped his eyes. 

"Lie down," George told him. "You're nearly out on your feet."

"If you were Jack, I'd tell you I'm not on my feet. And it's your bed, sir. Surely you need rest."

George just gave his best I'm your CO look which knowing Doctor Jackson would be ignored.

"But I have the utmost respect for you, sir, so I'll do it."

He stretched out on the bed after removing his boots. 

"You can tell Janet you've done your duty," Daniel said.

George couldn't help himself and let out a bark of laughter before quickly sobering. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

He turned off the overhead light and sat down at his desk, ready to keep his own vigil for the night.

He thought Daniel had fallen asleep, but soon the other man spoke very quietly.

"It's funny, you know. I guess I did succeed in one way."

"How's that?" George asked.

"I asked Major Loren to make me his hostage instead of the others, and I think I still am."

There was another hitch in Daniel's breathing and George heard the soft sobs of a man who continued to give and give more of himself and still doubted his worth. Daniel's breath soon evened out and George let out a sigh before turning on the desk light and listening to Doctor Jackson breathe.

He stared at his computer, unable to bring himself to start the report of the incident. God, he hated that word. 

He glanced over at Doctor Jackson, who'd turned to his side and for the moment, at least, appeared to be at peace.

Doctor Jackson was unaware of how much George thought of him, he was sure. He never told the other man how he felt---and propriety and duty demanded he shouldn't. It wouldn't do for it to slip out on base that he often thought that had he been granted a son, he would want him to be a man just like one Doctor Daniel Jackson. 

It didn't matter that he had a son in law he dearly loved—Matthew was a wonderful husband and great father. But he was military through and through—grown up an Air Force brat much as his daughter had and now was an instructor at the Air Force Academy. 

But Daniel Jackson reminded George that there were other paths, that there was another sort of honor, that strength wasn't necessarily found in who had the beter weapons but rather who reached out in peace and friendship. 

And too often they asked Daniel to be a soldier forgetting all the things he could teach them. 

We, no, I need to do better, George resolved as he watched the other man sleep. Daniel didn't need to be hostage to the SGC either. He closed his own eyes to pray to a God he wasn't sure listened but hoped that his prayer would be heard.

"Help me help him. Help me be the person he needs me to be. Give him peace, give him joy."

He turned back to his computer and pulled up the form he'd filled out way too many times.

I regret to inform...


End file.
